


The Collar

by Lady_Therion



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Light BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-28 03:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Therion/pseuds/Lady_Therion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more than one way for a Beauty to tame a Beast...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Collar

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This was written as a belated RCIJ gift for trashandscraps who prompted "fluff and fem!dom." This my first foray into that territory. I hope I did it justice. 
> 
> 2\. FYI, let's pretend that every incident post-Zelena's capture never happened. So yeah, it's post-Season 3 without any wacky time travel nonsense.

* * *

**_The Enchanted Forest_ **

At first glance, the collar looked harmless enough: a mere rope of black leather with a gilded buckle to fasten ‘round the neck of some slobbering cur. But the cur that wore it last was no ordinary mongrel, and it was for that reason alone that Rumplestiltskin traveled so far—and endured so much  _inconvenience_ —to strike this particular deal.

“I would spare you a word of caution,” said Hades, perched like a watchful rook upon his throne of ebony. “But I believe such an effort would be lost on the likes of you.” 

Rumplestiltskin stayed his tongue. It wasn’t every day one parried with the lord of the underworld, and to have such a personage in his debt was enough to suffer any slight.

“Many thanks,” he said with oily acquiescence. “Your payment is but proof of my lord’s generosity.”  

“And  _my_  payment, sorcerer?”

It had been a great many years since Rumplestiltskin encountered a patron as intent on their share of the bargain as he was. But unlike mortals, Hades was not one to be cheated so easily.

And death was always  _such_  tricky business—even for the Dark One.  

With a flick of his wrist and a flourish of purple smoke, he procured a pomegranate as red as a human heart. “Your lady love shall not have to devour it whole.” He held up a single gnarled finger. “One bite will suffice.” 

Hades eyed the fruit with unveiled suspicion—not wholly undeserved, given Rumplestiltskin’s reputation. That Hades even deigned to consult with him on such a  _tender_  affair bared the severity of his need.

But desperate souls came in many forms. Even gods. 

“And she’ll be mine forever?”

Only foolish lovers thought in ‘forevers,’ but Hades was among the few who understood the price of eternity… and the crushing weight of its burden.  

“She will never leave your side,” said Rumplestiltskin.

A very long moment passed before Hades sealed the collar within a velvet bag and tossed it at Rumplestiltskin’s feet.

“This collar can be used to tame the heart of even the cruelest beast. It’s one of many in my possession. It’s also how I first brought Cerberus to heel when he was just a pup. What manner of monster do  _you_ plan to tame, sorcerer?”

“Oh, I could think of a few  _royals_  who misbehave more often than not,” was Rumplestiltskin’s airy reply. It would make a fine addition to his collection, and could be used to his advantage if ever the time came.

“I see,” said Hades, sighing deeply in contemplation. “Tell me, Dark One. Have you ever taken a wife?”  

Rumplestiltskin nearly sputtered at the abruptness—no, the very  _audacity_ —of the question. It had been several lifetimes since someone managed to make his sharp tongue falter. The feeling was hideous in its familiarity.

“Once, long ago. We did not find joy in one another.”

Hades replied in kind with the barest of smirks—so incongruous with the sad-eyed hollowness of his face.

“And would you take a second one, should the chance happen upon you?”

“I…don’t understand the relevance of that.” It was the first time in years that Rumplestiltskin answered honestly.

The small quirk in the corner of the old god’s mouth gained more prominence. “No. I suppose you wouldn’t.” Then he summoned the red pomegranate into his pale hands, the pull of his ancient magic briefly touching Rumplestiltskin’s like an unwelcome itch. “The deal is struck.”  

Rumplestiltskin pursed his lips and bowed again. “May you find the joy you seek.”

“…and may you find yours.”

*******

**_Storybrooke_ **

Belle didn’t know what to make of the old collar she found in the backroom. Then again, she never knew what to make of her husband’s odds and ends to begin with. All but a few ever seemed to be useful.

“ _Everything_ I have can be useful, my dear,” he told her once. “But only when the right opportunity presents itself.”

But what opportunity could an old dog collar possibly present? Perhaps she could give it as a gift to Pongo. She would have to ask Rumplestiltskin about it later—he always did have a fondness for dogs.

“What _are_  you doing?”

There was playful note in his voice that made a tingle race up her spine. For a moment, she was caught in a place between now and then…the shop and the castle…a time when he once called himself her master and she called herself his maid.

_So much had changed since then, and yet so much had not._

“Nothing,” she said with a coy smile. “Keeping away the dust and cobwebs.”

“How many times must I tell you?” He held up a disapproving finger. “You’re not my servant any longer.”

“No,” she agreed, looping her arms around his neck as he leaned into her. “But I  _am_  your wife. A wife whose hands get quite restless while waiting for her husband for lunch.” 

“Oh?” He captured her mouth in a luxuriously deep kiss, pressing her back against the workbench. “We must find other ways to keep your hands occupied then.”

She keened as he bit her bottom lip before plunging into another kiss. It thrilled her to know that they could do this to one another, that he could feel as much passion for her as she did for him. That they could do this any time they liked, as many  _times_ as they liked …now that they were together at last. 

Husband and wife.

It had been a long, dark road for them both, and Belle suspected that it was far from over. To know him this way was a gift, but to be granted the time to know more of him was a blessing. And she  _would_ know more of him, if only to gain something back for all the lost years.

He broke their heated kiss just as they were about to get…carried away. That they could lose themselves so easily in one another was also something that thrilled her.

“What’s this?” he said, gesturing to the collar on the workbench.

“Just something I found. Do you recognize it?”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes taking on a distant look. “Yes, I do.”

He said no more, and she didn’t expect him to. It was the only point of contention between them: his need to hide himself away, and her desire to be let in. But she knew that great chasms could not be crossed in a day. Besides, now was not the time and place to dwell on dark thoughts.

“I’ll put it back in its box then.”

“I think that’s for the best, my dear. You always  _did_ like to go poking around at things that could bite.”

“ _Could_  it bite?”

“Not as well as I can,” he growled before nipping her earlobe again...and again. It was a spot that she liked  _oh_ so much, and it was so very unfair that he took advantage of it to distract her. Only  _he_ could make her feel so frustrated and giddy with pleasure at the same time. 

“Where should we go for lunch?” she asked, still dazed as he trailed his way down the column of her neck, his stubble making her shiver.

“I thought home would be nice,” he said.

“But why so far away? We can have lunch here in town.”

“Hm.” He pouted. “And after all the trouble I went of making food…and our bed is so much nicer than the booths at Granny’s.”

Her eyes grew bright with anticipation at the mention of their bed and no more was said on the matter.

Yet not an hour later…in fact, soon after they flipped the shop’s sign from “open” to “closed,” a pair of customers wandered into the shop as the though the door was never locked at all.

“You would think his enchantments would have been stronger.” This was declared by the younger of the two: a woman with golden hair and a face as fresh as springtime.

“He’s lost his touch, I expect,” said her companion, a gaunt-faced and graying gentleman who eyed the glass counter with mute curiosity. Out of habit, he touched his ring, which held an emblem of a rook. “Marriage  _does_  tend to make one settle, you know.”

“Oh hush,” the woman swatted his arm. “Still…it’s rather cozy isn’t it?” 

The gentleman only tilted his head, as though he heard a familiar sound in the far-off distance. “I wonder…” He made his way around the counter before lifting the curtain that led to the back room. “Ah, there we are. You were quite right, my dear. He kept it after all.”

“Excellent,” said the woman, following close behind. “Things will f _inally_  be interesting!”

The gentleman smirked as he waved his hand above the collar, where it twisted and lengthened into a blue silk tie. Another wave of his hand, and it vanished. “There now. I think it’s about time they received their wedding gift.” 

“Hmph,” said the woman. “And to think that we weren’t even invited.”

*******

A hot slant of afternoon light burned through the curtains of their bedroom, casting faint shadows against the walls and floor. Belle rolled onto her stomach; nude, sweat-soaked and sated…for now.  

“We never finished eating,” she said, as Rumplestiltsin kissed the space between her shoulders.

He smiled against her skin. “ _I_  did.”

She turned around to swat him, only to be pinned down to pillows by another messy and eager kiss. To her eternal shock and lustful delight, she could still taste herself on him.

“I…have to go back…to the library,” she said between moans. “And  _you_ …need to collect the rent.” 

He growled, letting her go only after a few more enthusiastic bites to her neck and shoulder. She’d have to start buying blouses with higher collars. The thought of someone noticing made her blush all the more…and not entirely for the right reasons!

Eventually, they made their way out of bed with Belle heading towards their bath. She had just turned on the water when she heard Rumple’s voice calling through the open door. 

“Darling, have you seen my tie?”

If Belle had told anyone in Storybrooke that Rumplestiltskin did not actually give a fig for any of his ties, she was sure no one would believe her. It was an illusion of his own making that he was thought to dress impeccably, almost diabolical in his attentiveness to every detail. The reality was that he largely did it for effect, much like he did during their days in the Dark Castle. She remembered him being as equally dismissive and careless of his clothing, often commanding her to mend and wash his things for his own amusement.

But the blue silk tie that Rumple was asking for was one she chose herself. It was the first purchase she made in the modern world. And while she was still bewildered that most payments were made with cards instead of coins, she was very proud to come home that evening with the tie elegantly wrapped in its box. Looking at it now, it was no more or less fashionable than the rest of his ties. But she remembered the way he looked at her when she looped it around his neck, as though he never received anything more precious.    

“Did you leave it on the dresser?”

“Ah, there it is.” A short pause. “I’ll see you for dinner.”

“Maybe this time we’ll actually  _eat_.” She called back as the warm water ran through her hair. All she heard in reply was that incorrigible laugh of his before the door shut behind him.  

Unbeknownst to either of them, Rumplestiltskin had never found the blue silk tie in question…

Because the real one was still lying limply beneath their bed.

*******

Belle didn’t know what to make of the young woman who entered her library.

She had certainly never seen her before, which made her apprehensive despite her welcoming nature. Being captured by strangers had become too much of a theme in Belle’s life of late. Though Rumple often chided her for being too trusting, she was no longer so innocent as all that.

The woman looked to be her age, with golden hair that seemed artfully untamed—not enough to look wild, but perhaps just…free, careless, and more than a little self-possessed. She was not unlike a woodland nymph that Belle had seen in classic paintings. Her dark eyes looked mischievous beneath the brim of her floral hat, and there was a particular scent about her too. Some kind of soap or perfume? Whatever it was, it put Belle in mind of the flowered fields beyond her home in Avonlea.

“Mrs. Gold?”

Belle stiffened. Almost no one in town called her Mrs. Gold, save one—and she was currently imprisoned.

“Yes?” Belle answered curtly.

“I’m Mrs. Rook.” The woman extended a hand over the reception desk. Belle shook it, and noticed that the ring on the woman’s hand _also_ had an emblem of a rook. Perhaps it was a family crest? “I believe your husband knows my mine.”

“Does he?” Belle stiffened. As pleasant as this woman seemed, Rumplestiltskin was not known to make many friends.

“Yes, you met him briefly.” Her musical tone growing solemn. “He was the undertaker for Neal Cassidy’s funeral. I’m afraid it wasn’t a happy occasion.”

That’s right. Belle did remember meeting a very tall and brooding gentleman at Storybrooke’s only funeral parlor. He was a man of few words, with a pensive expression that made him appear stony and impenetrable. She had no idea that he was married. And to someone so young and vibrant too… 

Then again, Belle was in no position to judge when nearly half the town thought she was entirely too young for Rumpletstiltskin. Though if they truly acknowledged the customs of their homeland, they would remember that it was not so very odd for a man to marry ten or even twenty years his junior—no matter what his status in society. Honestly, the prejudices of the modern world were often so very peculiar to her. 

“My husband and I were very sorry about your stepson,” said Mrs. Rook, the mischievous light in her eyes softening into something warm and genuine. She truly did seem very sorry… “We didn’t know him well, but we certainly know the pain of loss.”

“Yes,” said Belle, trying to regain her composure. It wasn’t that Mrs. Rook had unsettled her. It was more that her sympathy touched on how much Neal’s death was still a fresh wound for her and Rumple both. For one brief moment, they had been a family. A brief taste of the happy ending that Rumple wanted all his life. “Thank you.”   

“I’m sorry,” said Mrs. Rook. “I didn’t mean to bring up something so… I _had_ meant to invite you and Mr. Gold for dinner. It’s been a  _very long time_  since my husband had seen him last. We have a lot to thank him for. Truly.”

Belle raised a brow. “Really?”

Mrs. Rook laughed. “Oh yes. They were, ah, made a deal of sorts back in their day.” At Belle’s alarmed expression, she hastily elaborated. “Oh no. Nothing so terrible! In fact, it all ended up in my husband's favor. And mine. They were really quite amiable with one another. Well, at least as amiable as my husband can get. He can seem very grave and quite pompous, but he does have his moments. I’m sure you understand.”

 _A little too well_ , Belle thought. “I hope you don’t mind me asking…but who exactly  _was_  your husband? Back in our land, I mean?”

Mrs. Rook smiled in a way that almost seemed forbidding. But before she could answer, the doors to the library banged open to reveal two very distressed-looking Charmings.

“Belle, you’ve got to come with us,” began Snow.

“It’s Gold,” David finished.

Instantly, Belle’s heart leapt to her throat. 

“He’s fine,” said David. “It’s just…he…look, you have to come to the shop. He’s…this is really tough to explain.”

“I’m sorry,” said Belle, stepping around Mrs. Rook. “I have to go.”

“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Rook. “I hope everything turns out all right.”

Had Belle turned around to see her expression, she would have noted the mischievous light that returned to Mrs. Rook’s eyes.

*******

“What happened?” asked Belle as they brought her into the shop, Snow and David on either side of her.

“I always knew one day your husband would snap,” said Regina. “We had to put him away in the back. Or rather,  _I_ had to put him away in the back—no thanks to these two.”

“Put him  _away_?”

Belle looked towards the back room and saw that there was now a door there instead of the curtain. Inside was the most  _fitful_  howling she had ever heard.

“Is that  _Rumple_?”

“Let’s back up,” said Snow fretfully, “We were in the diner. Gold arrived to collect the rent. He and Granny made their usual exchange. Then all of the sudden your Gold starts snarling, and I don't mean his usual pawnbroker snarling. I mean  _actual s_ narling, snarling...then growling...and then—”

“What we mean is that he's behaving like an actual dog," said David. 

“ _What?!_ " 

A loud thrashing against the door startled them all. 

“You might just wanna see for yourself," said Regina.

Cautiously, Belle approached the door. "Rumple?" She knocked lightly. "Rumple, are you all right?"

Nothing for a moment. Then a sudden whimpering noise followed by a desperate scratching. 

"Is he actually  _pawing_  at the door?" said Regina. 

“Rumple, I’m coming in!” said Belle. 

Then Rumple,  _completely naked_ , leapt upon her as soon as she entered. 

"Oh yeah, I think Charming forgot to mention that he ran around completely  _starkers_  after that," said Regina from the other side. "It was hell trying to get him inside the shop. I might consider bleaching my eyes."

"Me too," said Snow. 

If Rumple had any objections to their banter, he certainly didn't show it. Instead, he was too busy licking and sniffing at Belle's collar. His unbridled enthusiasm making it seem as though he hadn't seen her in ages. 

“Rumple! Oh, what’s  _happened_  to you?”

Rumple only barked and continued to assault her face with his tongue, which she would have enjoyed at any other moment except for _this._

"Down!" she said, as though he were one of her father's hounds. 

Then, strangely enough, he did as she bid. He knelt back on the floor, hands on his thighs, looking up at her expectantly. If he had a tail, it would be wagging. That's when she saw it: the old collar from this morning...looped fastidiously around his neck.

“Rumple, where did you get that? Did you take that out of its box?”

He tilted his head at her. Damn it. He couldn't answer her like that.

"Belle, are you okay? I'm assuming that you are since you aren't screaming in fright or ecstasy." 

“Oh my  _gods_ , Regina!” cried Snow.

“Yeah, I’m fine," Belle called through the door. "I’ll just, uh, have to do some research I guess." She wished she could have said something more articulate, but it was getting difficult to stay focused when Rumple decided to crawl towards her and lick his way up her bare thigh. "Don't know what happened to him. Probably a curse," she squeaked, as Rumple ducked under her skirt. 

“Like we don’t usually get those often enough,” said Regina. "Well if you do _need_  us, give us a call on the hotline."

"We have a hotline?" asked David.

"She means Emma," said Snow.

"All right!" said Belle, as Rumple starting nosing in on her panty line. "Rumple,  _not now,"_ Belle whispered, trying to push him away. Already, she could tell that he was getting… _excited_. “I need to take you home.”

He whined at her in complaint. 

Putting on his clothes proved to be quite the trial. She had at least wrestled him into wearing pants and haphazardly buttoned one of his dress shirts. He wouldn't have anything to do with his shoes, and kept tossing them to the other side of the room like it was some kind of game. 

“Rumple! This isn't the time  _to play_!" 

But he was practically frantic with energy and kept jumping up at her and rubbing himself on her legs, and really on any other day she would have had a  _very_ different reaction. But for goodness sake, she had never had to deal with anything like  _this_! 

"Rumple, no. Sit!" 

And again, Rumple did just that. It was almost as though she were using that horrid dagger, except he didn't look unnerved or upset at her command. In fact, it was if he were  _anxious_  for her to tell him what to do next.

And seeing him at her feet, half dressed with his cock tenting out through the unzipped gap in his trousers made her insides flutter. 

“Okay, focus,” she said, looking around his workroom. "I'll need to get you in into the car without having to drag you by the neck..." 

It didn't take her long to find a leash.

***

Belle tried to avoid as many stares as she could as she walked Rumple from the shop to their car at the end of the block. Fortunately, she didn't have to work too hard every time he raced ahead—in fact, he seemed very content the harder she pulled. 

Of course, Emma and Killian just _had_ to stroll by. 

“Oi, what's with the Crocodile?" 

Then Rumple barked...actually  _barked_...in Killian's face. His teeth bared and his jaws snapping. 

"Rumple, stop it!" 

"Do you need a hand?" asked a completely bewildered Emma. 

Belle blushed. "No," she said, ushering her husband towards the car. "Everything’s fine, really " 

"Well all right...you know my cell." 

At least getting Rumple into the car wasn't as much of a performance as getting him into clothes. He rolled around on the front seat as Belle put the car into drive. 

"Rumple, sit." 

He whined. 

"What is it?"

He pawed at the window. 

"Oh  _fine_." 

*******

It was a miracle that they made it the house with most of their dignity intact. 

“Come on sweetheart," said Belle, tugging him into the parlor. He complied easily enough, and went down on all fours once they reached the sofa.

He seemed much calmer now, having spent most of his energy barking at every little thing—other dogs, included—from the car window. His hair, which was usually so neat, now stuck out in every direction. She even managed to coax him onto her lap where he rested his head as she unfastened the leash. 

Though he seemed perfectly at ease, Belle only wished she could say the same thing for herself. She didn't even know where to start! Who could have possibly been responsible for this? 

Her cell phone rang. The number looked unfamiliar. 

"Mrs. Gold?" 

It was a cool voice that answered. Quite literally. Belle fought the urge to suppress a chill, as though the air in the room had suddenly dropped in temperature. Rumple must have felt it too, because he perked up in her lap and peered at her curiously. She ran her fingers through his flyaway hair to calm him.

“Yes this is she...”

“This is Mr. Rook.”

 _The undertaker?_  Belle frowned. 

“I believe my wife stopped by your library this afternoon?”

“Yes...” 

“Ah, wonderful. I was wondering if you and Mr. Gold were enjoying your wedding gift?” 

“Wedding gift?” 

A slight pause.

"Why,  _the collar_  of course." 

_The collar..._

"What the hell have you  _done_?" she cried, causing Rumple to jump onto the floor. "What is this...a spell? Some horrible way to get your revenge? Because I swear—"

"On the contrary, Mrs. Gold. This is not an act of retribution. This is an act of our sincere gratitude." 

“What do you mean?” she asked as Rumple began to nuzzle against her. Even now, he could sense her distress and accompanied his soft kneading with reassuring growls.

“Now, now. We don’t mean to upset you. If you must know, the collar is of my own making, and can be removed _only_ by the person that its wearer trusts the most. I had fashioned it to tame some of my _wilder_ pets. Cerberus, for example.”

 _Cerberus?_ Belle’s eyes widened. _Then that would mean Rook is actually…_

“As you can tell, the collar can be worn by any man _or_ beast.” He chuckled. “Or a god, even. Believe me, it is not meant to harm. Only to… _placate_ its wearer, if you will. Silence the turmoil in their heart. In the case of your husband, it returned him to his baser instincts. I imagine that he’s more manageable now without all the theatrics and showmanship, yes?” 

“This is…this is terrible trick,” she said, though admittedly with less conviction now that Rumple had begun to use his tongue once more. She cast a quick glance at his eyes, which were radiating an expression that could only equate with _begging._ “He isn’t…he isn’t in his right mind.”

“Then by all means, remove the collar then. Ask him yourself how he feels. Oh, and when you do…please do give me and my wife a call. We would love to do dinner.”

“Bastard,” she muttered angrily before throwing her cell across the room.

Rumple looked up at her with wide, worried eyes. How could Rook possibly think that her husband would want her to use this collar on him? When he had been enslaved by Zelena for almost a year?

“Come here, Rumple.” She patted her knees where he immediately rested his head. “I’m going to remove this now, all right.”

Inexplicably, he began to growl when she found the little catch that let her loosen it. Eventually, she set him free and for a moment his eyes seem to glimmer. Belle hovered over him as he swayed and groaned, placing a hand to his temple. 

“Belle?”

Her lips trembled as she clutched him in a fierce embrace. “Oh Rumple. Thank goodness!”

“What happened?”

“It was the collar, Rumple. Mr. Rook somehow tricked you into wearing it and…and it was making you act so…so strange.”

“Mr. _Rook_?”

Rumplestiltskin glanced at the collar, still gripped in her hands. Then he looked at her and licked his lips.

“That collar…I haven’t been able to unlock its magic since I acquired it. Are you saying…?”

_Oh, he looked **so lost**!_

“Everything’s all right now. “ She tipped his chin. “I was able to take it off.”

“But…I…,” he stammered. It was a very rare occasion when her husband _stammered_. She could count the number of times he had lost his composure on one hand. “Belle, what if I _want_ you to use it?”

“What? _No_.”She gripped his shoulders. “Why on earth—Rumple, I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me. I’m _asking_ you to do this.”

“No!” she cried. “That would be no different than…than Zelena using your dagger. I don’t want to be her, Rumple. _Never_. Why would you even ask me—?” 

He kissed her, sweetly and desperately, as though he would never have another chance.

“My love,” he whispered. “Zelena used my dagger against me without giving me a choice. The fact that she _reveled_ in taking away my will was what drove me to madness in the end. But Belle, when I heard your voice with the collar…it made me feel… _free_.”

She stroked his face, and he leaned into her touch, kissing the inside of her palm as he did so. “Rumple…I don’t understand.”

“The collar doesn’t control me, Belle. If anything, it…it calms me. Makes me feel like I can let go of being Mr. Gold, let go of being the Dark One. Please, love. I _want_ you to use it. I want you to tell me how to please you.” And here he buried himself into the side of her neck, inhaling her scent. “Tell me how to please you. Undo what that witch has done. Please…”

She rubbed the back of his neck. “Are you…are you sure?”

“Oh yes, I’m sure. Please, Belle. Make me feel _free_.”

In the end, Belle wondered if she could ever really resist him.

Carefully, she took the collar in her hand and placed it around his neck. He gazed at her with so much love. As soon as she fastened the clasp, his eyes glimmered again the “beast” within him came forward.

And nearly hummed with delight.

“Down,” she said, pointing her finger to the floor.

He did.

“Take off your clothes.”

He did.

He was naked in seconds, his throbbing cock spring free from his discarded trousers.

“Lie back,” she said. “Spread your legs for me.”

He did.

Oh, he was so utterly gorgeous like this. This beautiful and powerful man, so utterly at her mercy.

Adrenaline coursed through her like fire. She had _never_ felt this way before.

“I want you to be absolutely still,” she said as she stood and shrugged off her coat. “You can’t move at all. You’ve been such a naughty boy today, Rumple.” She slipped off her skirt and unbuttoned her blouse. “I want you to see what you’ve been doing to me.”

Once she was nude, she sat back down on their sofa and spread her own legs.

She touched the curve of her breasts and his eyes followed hungrily. If he were good, she would let him touch them later. Let him suckle and mouth at her nipples to his heart’s content as she cradled him to her.

But a moment first for this.

Without further preamble, she set aside her own drenched panties and placed a finger inside herself.

She leaned back as she set a steady pace, her eyes not leaving Rumple’s as she did so. God, she felt so _wanton_ doing this! It felt so shameful, so wicked and yet so incredibly wonderful, so right.

Rumple whimpered from the floor as she added another finger. She had never touched herself this way, she thought, until Rumple had taught her how to do it. It seemed so fitting to her then that she could show him how much of a quick study she was since they began sharing their bed.

He squirmed as she tossed her head forward, curling around her hand as she fought against the building climax. The sofa was going to be absolutely ruined at this rate…though perhaps that was something that Rumple would later appreciate.

Then, miraculously, he managed to speak. Though it sounded less like his silky speech and more like a guttural growl.

“Please…sorry. Please.”

His hips had begun to move of their own accord, as though he were imagining himself grinding into her.

“Not until you mean it, love.”

She moaned and panted, Rumple echoing her all the while. He looked so _wretched_ there on the floor, unable to see to himself, his cock growing so stiff that it looked like it almost hurt.

She brought herself near to the brink, before she pulled out her hand and crawled towards him. “You’re not to touch me either. Not unless I tell you.”

He reddened from the strain of her command. She realized that he could disobey her at any moment, but he was choosing not to.

And that what was most important in all this—that he was _choosing._

Belle grinned before she sat astride him, pressing her wet hand towards his lips. “Come here sweetheart and have a treat.”

He dove for her fingers and licked them clean, licked them as though he had never tasted anything better in his life.

Elated, Belle grabbed his hair. “Do you want more, sweetheart?”

He growled and snapped and begged. Then she hitched herself up his body and pressed her wet and glistening folds into his face.

Then he was on her, his lips kissing and suckling as though she had never let him do this before. She held him there, loving the pure ferocity. How could she ever feel ashamed of this? She _adored_ it. She adored _him_ even more.

 “Oh yes…yes sweetheart. Ah!”

She turned to look down at him and saw that he was shaking and red with the effort of keeping himself together.

“You want to come. Don’t you love?”

He nodded vigorously. He was trying so hard not to touch, not to grab hold of her and have his way. _Her good boy_.

“Just a little more, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

She spread her legs wider for him as he craned his neck towards her slick and silken core. He raked his tongue over her hot little nub--not touching her anywhere else, just like she asked him to. 

“Faster now, love,” she urged.“ _Ooooh_. Don’t come yet.”

He pleaded through every ragged lick.

“I need…I can’t…Belle, _please._ ”

It was his soft cry that shot through her. She could feel herself _coming_ , rising to the peak of an unspeakable paradise that left her breathless… left her _gushing_ even, onto his face.

“Now you can come, darling,” she said raggedly, taking his hard and throbbing length in her hand. “Come inside me, please. Let me _feel_ you. ”  

He roared, hips bucking up towards her with surprising strength. She met him thrust for thrust, pounding into him in a way that she knew she would feel come morning. It would all be so _worth it_ though…

“Belle!” he cried, shouting himself hoarse.

She collapsed against him as another climax stole through her, sending tremors up and down her spine. Between her thighs, she could feel the copious, warm drip of him. To provoke such a marvelous reaction made her feel so inexplicably _satisfied._ She nuzzled into his chest and hummed with pleasure.

“You did so _well_ , sweetheart. I’m _so_ proud of you.”

He preened as he burrowed into her arms.

***

In the end, the Golds  _did_  end up making dinner plans with the Rooks.

“You were quite right my darling,” said Hades to Persephone one afternoon.

“You see?” she said, as she delicately fastened her own husband’s collar. “I  _knew_  they would like it.

 

 


End file.
